Omni-DOS: the Logbook
by PeliikGrahSol
Summary: In the aftermath of the reaper invasion Private Alphonse Miller finds Commander Jane Shepard under the dead body of a batarian. This batarian soon shows himself to be much more than he first portrays.


**Chapter one:**

Logbook

Silence, the world was silent except for the dry and hot wind. No one would be able to recognize the rubble wasteland that now dominated Earth. Concrete formations cracked and split into ununiformed blocks of grey rock. Twisted metal, still cooling from the scorching heat that melted them into apocalyptic shapes, jutted out of the rubble dangerously. Clouds of dry dirt and dust blew around.

The sun only completed the scene of complete devastation as its bright and frying rays of radiation, cooked anything going unprotected in its light.

The brittle concrete block gave way for gravel as a heavy armoured boots of the Alliance marine, Private Alphonse Miller slid down into the cool shadows. Finally having enough of the heat his armour's internal climate control system couldn't handle.

He internally sighed behind his reflective visor. The destruction of Earth had not hit him as hard as it did most others. He was a spacer, a child born in space and that lived most of their growing years in it. In fact the destruction of the ship he was stationed on had been worse. It had been home, his friends' home… his family's home.

It is weird how a piece of machinery held more affection in him and his squad mates than an entire planet did.

He had been the only survivor when it fell through the atmosphere, the patched armour could attest to that.

He had been on several occasions been believed to be dead thanks to his disfigured armour. It had also fooled the damned husks.

Miller looked out into the distance; there lied the crashed derelict wreckage of a reaper. Even at the great distance he could see the flashes of plasma cutters as hundreds of engineers picked the durable vessel apart.

Miller sighed again as he got another report call.

"_Sigma-Ar-Two reporting; nothing on my end, over._"

"_Sigma-Ar-fifty, two more dead marines and an alien, over._"

... the rapport continued until over two hundred voices gave their report.

"_Sigma-Ar-eighty, are you there? Report._" Came the operation-commander's voice, calling for his attention.

"Sigma-Ar-eighty reports nothing." Miller sighed in response.

The comm. grunted with the usual weary 'keep at it.'

With a tired grunt Miller started another scolding hot trek over to the next shadow large enough to shield him. His eyes peeled for anything, living or dead.

He had been recruited into the Search and Rescue team seven, more commonly known as SR-7, after the conduit fired.

The fires created burned the atmosphere to bits and hundreds of thousands of positions went dark, got trapped or died. The SR's duty was to find and retrieve these soldiers and bring them home, dead or alive.

It was long and boring if not outright depressing work. They found more dead than they found alive, and most that were alive did not survive the week out

He crested the small concrete hill; probably it had been a suburban villa before it fell to the fire.

Down below laid one of the large pieces of the conduit that fell from the sky not hours after it had fired its apocalyptic red pulse. Weirdly enough the pieces of this metal behemoth fell nearly harmlessly through the atmosphere.

Curiosity guided his steps down the treacherous loose hill towards the wreckage.

Wandering around inside the wreckage he spotted something that made his heart jump.

He rushed over skidding to a halt beside the two bodies. He did not recognize the amour of the first one but he certainly noticed the iconic N7 insignia on the second black one.

He rolled the brown one off of the female soldier and cringed at the horrible burns the exposed flesh had suffered. He almost jabbed his hand through his Omni-tool as he made a complete body scan of the body.

His eyes bulged as the scan confirmed the identity of the body. He reread the scan data over and over again, trembling with unbridled excitement.

He had found the famous Commander Shepard but not only that… she was alive.

His hand scrambled up to his helmet; activating his comm. unit.

"This is Sigma-Ar-Eighty, Commander Shepard has been found, I repeat! The Commander has been found and alive!"

"…_roger that…_" Miller could hear the stunned expression of his OC, "_A medical unit has been dispatched to your location, Sigma-Ar-Eighty. Sit tight, ETA: 5 minutes._"

Miller was astonished how his commander could remain so professional under the circumstances.

He took one last look at the data confirming that his eyes did not deceive him. He did not dare move The commanders body afraid of worsening her injuries. It was incredible. Her heart rate was next to nothing and erratic, her chest barely rose has she breathed shallow unsteady breaths. Blood level a bit under optimal but miraculously enough.

His scans told him she was comatose but he thought it was better than nothing.

As he slowly calmed he remembered the other soldier in brown lying beside the Commander.

His eyebrows shot up in shock when he noticed who or rather what he was. The green furred batarian. If it was not for the left side of the helmet's reflective visor he would not have been any wiser. The Helmet, if one ignored its mangled appearance, looked like an old gasmask. Two tubes led back over his shoulders into a backpack.

The armour looked as damaged as Shepard's. It had a dirty chocolate brown colour.

Miller scanned the batarian but sighed as it turned out negative. No identity or life signs could be detected.

But curious of who this was he withdrew the memory core; it had miraculously survived the descent.

He did not have time but pocketed the core as a shuttle roared passed, swung around and landed close by.

A group of four military medic-officers rushed forth and took Shepard and the batarian away.

Miller jumped inside the shuttle just before it left the ground. He was supposed to continue working, but he was interested in why the batarian was there… and his gut told him the answered laid inside the memory core…

* * *

><p>--/-

Audio_Log#: (8/16/2186)

ID#: 895984

Title: Last Log Entry (JIC)

-/-/-

(Dull gunshots and explosions could be heard in the background.)

(One could hear someone with deep baritone grunt followed by scraping sound.)

"Aaah… I needed that." The voice said with relief clear in his voice.

"Hum… to anyone who's listening… I am probably dead."

(A loud explosion was heard and static played for a few seconds.)

"I will try to be short as possible. Soon Jane and a contingent of marines will try and reach the Conduit… I have decided to ignore her orders to withdraw with the Normandy, he he he" the baritone voice continued.

"Anyway, you who are listening to my last words mean that you must have found my Omni-tool. It holds all of my journal entries… my life… my secrets. I entrust-"(A gunshot dominates the audio as one could hear the distinct shattering sound of rock.)"-entrust you to give it to Jane if she survived… if it, against all my hopes, so happens that she perished… I want you to destroy the memory core."

(The voice takes a deep breath before continuing.)

"This has been Gerald, signing off."

(The audio log cuts immediately after wards.)

-/-/-

Miller turned off his Omni-tool and leaned back on improvised seat (a conveniently shaped concrete block). It was right outside one of the landed frigates that acted as bases and in this case a field hospital.

This batarian, this Gerald, was a curiosity. This 'last message' did not reveal much except that he was connected with the Commander.

He rubbed his eyes before going in to check on her… and if possible the batarian.

* * *

><p>AN Hope ya all like my initial idea.

R&R.


End file.
